Puppy Love
by GrumpySpaceKitten
Summary: Levi just can't help if he's totally infatuated.


**I heard "I Do Adore" by Mindy Gledhill for the first time this morning and this was what immediately popped into my head. I just had to write it.**  
 **Seems I'm on a fluff binge for once.**

I'm not some dumb teenager. I'm a grown ass man and should be able to act like it.

And yet… When Eren comes to the dining hall with the rest of the cadets I can't help the way my eyes track him. It's that look in his eyes, the way he manages to smile so genuinely at such a godforsaken hour of the morning. It's his wet hair drawn back into a ponytail while it dries, the inches he has over his friends that just keep coming as he gets older. All of it makes a fire burn in my chest and I am quick to finish my food before leaving the dining hall - and that distracting brat - in favour of paperwork I've let pile up.

Of course, my heart doesn't get the memo and continues to pound as I hurry to my office; it keeps pounding. My mind must be in on the traitorous pact because it refuses to stop conjuring images of the titan shifter.

Which is absolutely ridiculous. He and I couldn't be more different. Just take a look at our damn heights for starters - the kid keeps growing at this rate and he'll be a damn tree. Even if Armin and Mikasa say he's unsociable he still has this giant circle of friends. He relates to people better than I ever could. Meanwhile, I have… Hange. Who is weird as fuck. Erwin was also weird as fuck. Overall my track record of friends isn't that impressive. Maybe even a little embarrassing when you consider the one person who knows me best is a titan obsessed maniac...

And his temper. It takes absolutely nothing for him to fly off the handle. The amount of fights I've broken up between him and various people (usually Jean) is frankly astounding. The only reason he has all his teeth still is because of that freaky lizard healing ability of his.

That said, he is still more relaxed about things. He's better at going with the flow of events instead of trying desperately to stick to the plan and improvise as little as possible.

He has this gentleness to him that someone has crass as I could never have. He eats like a mess and lives like a slob. He doesn't like tea at all. He's talkative. He has such a stupidly high body temperature it feels like you're gonna get burned just by standing next to him while I'm practically cold-blooded. He doesn't care much for animals, he sleeps in and snore and drools all over the damn place, he's only learned to clean because I made him, his taste overall is absolute shit. The reasons we wouldn't work just continually stack up the longer you think about it.

Still, my emotions refuse to get on the same track as my logic as some voice deep at the edge of my subconscious whispers, _"Seems like you balance each other out well."_

The thought alone makes me trip as I walk up the stairs.

God damn it.

I shake my head as I pick myself up. This is so fucking dumb. I sigh to myself as I sink into my chair. Reading over reports is boring, certainly not part of my job I enjoy, and I just seem to be getting more and more. As if being Hange's right hand didn't mean I got enough extra work as it is, having all this new, titan-free land to survey doesn't give me any less work. I'd much prefer to be the one out there but the higher rank you are in the army the less footwork you get assigned. That fact makes me decline any promotion I'm offered. Just being captain puts my ass in a seat too much.

At the very least, paperwork brings a comforting sort of monotony. Simplifies our world that just keeps getting bigger and more hectic. It causes time to slide by in a wonderfully boring blur of black ink against white parchment until that humdrum is broken with four soft raps to my door.

"Come in," I call as I sign off on a soldier's request for downtime. More and more of these keep getting submitted. At this rate, no one will be working soon.

I remind myself to oil the hinges when the door squeaks open. And then all thoughts are gone when Eren steps into the room, conscious thinking replaced by a disgusting rosy pink haze over my brain. He salutes then relaxes when I wave my hand carelessly. "Good morning, Captain." Must still be morning. "How are you today? You were fast with breakfast this morning."

I hide (fucking _hide_ ) my face behind an overview of our resources when my cheeks and ears heat up. I'm _blushing,_ how fucking dumb is that? He didn't have to ask after me in that concerned, adorable voice.

Get a grip on yourself.

He steps closer to place a document on my desk and that natural smell of his wafts over me. It's earthy, like a walk through the forest. I hate that I unconsciously breathe in deeply. There's the fresh scent of soap over top of it. As much as I usually enjoy the smell of cleaner, I find it irks me this time. Odd.

"Had a lot of work to get to," I say dismissively. "What is it?"

"Commander Hange asked me to bring you these reports." Of course, she did. She's the only one who knows about my little… Infatuation. While Erwin hadn't liked soldiers getting in romantic relationships in fairness to their partners, Hange encourages it completely, saying that life is too short to not enjoy every facet of it. She would come up with any reason she could to get Eren and me in a room together. These "reports" are probably just a bunch of folded up blank pages. I'll yell at her for being wasteful later.

"Thank you," I still say. Eren doesn't need to know about those obnoxious woman's plots.

He half salutes again before fixing me with a look of mild fretting in those gorgeous teal eyes. How the fuck do they sparkle like that? I have to be going mad. "Don't work yourself too hard, Captain. If you need tea or biscuits I'll bring them for you, okay?"

Why the fuck would he say something like that when he definitely knows it makes my heart skip beats. Maybe I just have a heart condition. Probably. I'll go down to the medic later. They'll confirm it for me. Just an old man with heart problems. Yeah.

"Don't worry about." I try to dismiss it but his expression tells me that he is very much going to keep worrying about it. Still he salutes one last time before he leaves. I almost whine when that comforting scent follows him out.

This is _so_ fucking dumb.

But I still smile behind the unread report that my brain won't focus on now.

Puppy love is hard to ignore.


End file.
